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Maze Master

Page 35

by Kathleen O'Neal Gear


  “You’ve had the vaccine. This vaccine?” Anna held her hand out to the computer.

  “Well, I—I don’t know. I didn’t understand that was a picture of a vaccine. Ben Adam didn’t explain that to me.”

  “This was Ben Adam’s computer?”

  “Yes.”

  Glancing back at the dazzling display of sacred geometry rotating on the screen, she stayed silent for a long time. Hakari had been dressed in a monk’s robe. He’d called himself Ben Adam?

  Bending forward, she propped her elbows on her knees to let the stunned sensation pass through her while she contemplated the ramifications.

  Ben Adam.

  In Hebrew, it meant Son of Man. Throughout the Book of John the term was associated with the Last Judgment and with Jesus’s humanity and death.

  As though the world had shifted to slow motion, her chest gradually constricted, and her gaze moved from the screen to the elegant double helix spiraling around the floor. It struck her like a fist. “They’re different.”

  “What?”

  “The formula on the screen is different from the one on the floor. What’s the image on the floor? Did he tell you?”

  “No, I … I mean maybe he did, and I didn’t understand, but there’s another one like this in his cell at the monastery. He drew it on the walls. Shall I show it to you?”

  Hakari must have been afraid the formula would be accidentally erased or even deliberately destroyed. That’s the only reason he would have drawn it in two different places. To protect it. What is it?

  Turning, she closed the precious laptop, clutched it against her chest, and rose to her feet. “Right now, I need to get this computer to my friend Yacob in the lab aboard the Mead. Perhaps I could meet you at the monastery later tonight?”

  CHAPTER 65

  OCTOBER 30. MIDNIGHT. MONASTERY OF SAINT JOHN OF JERUSALEM.

  Anna and Yacob stood in the cold room, facing the peculiar formula written on the walls. Drawn with the same blue chalk as the DNA formula in the bomb shelter, the geometric symbols seemed to float in the candlelight like odd, hovering ghosts. Brother Stephen, who sat on the cot in the rear, had not said a word since he’d brought them here.

  Outside, the storm beat against the walls and snowflakes whipped by the window.

  Yacob shifted to brace his feet. It had practically taken an act of God to get Cozeba to allow him to come here.

  “Anna, you read his theoretical paper. Is this the ancestral form of HERV-K? The oldest form of the virus? That’s what it looks like to me.”

  As she walked closer to the wall, she noticed the spots of old blood on the floor and carefully veered around them. This had been James’s cell. It made sense that it was his blood. The thought reawakened the grief that had tormented her since his death. Taking a deep breath, she bent down to examine the formula’s complex structure, the way the hexagons were connected to the pentagons, and slowly, methodically, began moving along the walls, following out each line as it spiraled around and around. Twenty minutes later, an almost overwhelming elation filled her.

  “My God.”

  “Yeah,” Yacob said. “It’s brilliant. It’s beautiful. But what is it? Is this the source of hundreds of diseases?”

  The simple cell was dark and freezing, and the strange symbols reminded her of runes drawn on thousand-year-old Norse tombstones, intricate and mysterious, incomprehensible unless you knew the arcane language. In this case, the language of DNA.

  Turning to the young monk on the cot, she asked, “Brother Stephen, did Ben Adam tell you anything about this formula?”

  At first, he shrugged, then he seemed to think about it. “He said it was the Word of God. And the Mark of the Beast.”

  “The Mark of the Beast?”

  “From Revelation.”

  Yacob shook his head, as though that made no sense whatsoever. It took a while for his eyes to go wide. “Oh. I see it. It’s right there.”

  “What do you see?” Anna strode to his side and tried to follow his gaze, to see exactly what he was looking at.

  He lifted a hand to point. “Hexagons have six sides. The sequence starts and ends with three hexagons: 666. The number of the Beast in the Book of Revelation. In a way, 666 is the alpha and omega of the ancestral virus. If that’s what this is.”

  Feeling lost, Anna studied the sequence again. She needed rest. Once she’d slept, maybe she could …

  A jolt of adrenaline suddenly flooded her veins. She stood there breathing hard while sheer wonder spread through her. “That’s what he was trying to tell me. He said I’d find it and defeat the Beast.”

  “You mean the reference to—”

  “Yacob, look at it! It looks like the ancestral HERV-K virus, because it’s based upon it. The ancestral virus is the Beast, but this is not.”

  Yacob grimaced at the blue chalked images. Seconds later, she heard his sharp intake of breath. Hoarsely, he said, “I’m looking right at it, and I don’t believe it. It’s the HERV-K vaccine, the cure for LucentB and dozens of cancers, mental illnesses, neurological and autoimmune diseases…” His voice trailed off as the ramifications sank in.

  Awestruck, she said, “James spent his whole life searching for this, and it cost him everything—his job, his mind, his freedom.”

  “Even the love of his life.”

  When Yacob looked back at Anna, she could tell he was remembering the brilliant man they’d both loved.

  “Do you realize what this means?” she asked.

  “Yes, it means the LucentB vaccine taken by the Russians is now irrelevant, insignificant in comparison to the miracle formula flickering in the candlelight in front of us.”

  A particularly strong gust shook the floor beneath her feet, and Anna’s gaze moved around the room. When it reached the window, she stared out at the snow falling across the dead city of Valletta, and the dark ocean in the distance. “With this vaccine, America controls the future.”

  “Which means the world is going to live.”

  As she calculated the probabilities, vivid, sometimes terrifying, images of the future flashed behind her eyes. Patiently, she traced out the logical pathways, watching the dominoes fall, for how long she did not know, but when she finally turned back, she found both men watching her with moist eyes.

  “Yacob, we have to get this formula copied and start producing it. This is clearly the vaccine we must get to America.”

  “I know.”

  As though all of his energy had fled, Yacob’s knees went weak. He slowly walked to the cot and sank down atop the simple wool blanket beside Brother Stephen.

  They remained there for a long time, the light golden and the air soft, the small sounds of the monastery punctuated by the wind battering the ancient stone walls.

  Finally, Brother Stephen asked, “Everything will be all right now, won’t it? The Word of God will heal everyone?”

  Yacob looked at him, then he leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Anna heard a rasping, a sound that was probably laughter, as irreverent as anything she had ever heard, but it ended as something far more difficult to listen to.

  She walked across the room and sat down on the other side of Brother Stephen.

  Softly, she answered, “Yes. Yes, it will…”

  ALSO BY

  KATHLEEN O’NEAL GEAR

  People of the Wolf

  People of the Fire

  People of the Earth

  People of the River

  People of the Sea

  People of the Lakes

  People of the Lightning

  People of the Silence

  People of the Mist

  People of the Masks

  People of the Owl

  People of the Raven

  People of the Moon

  People of the Nightland

  People of the Weeping Eye

  People of the Thunder

  People of the Longhouse

  The Dawn Country

  The Broken Land
<
br />   People of the Black Sun

  People of the Morning Star

  People of the Songtrail

  An Abyss of Light

  Treasure of Light

  Redemption of Light

  It Sleeps in Me

  It Wakes in Me

  It Dreams in Me

  The Visitant

  The Summoning God

  Bone Walker

  Sand in the Wind

  This Widowed Land

  Thin Moon and Cold Mist

  Dark Inheritance

  Raising Abel

  The Betrayal: The Lost Life of Jesus

  Children of the Dawnland

  Copper Falcon

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  KATHLEEN O’NEAL GEAR is a nationally award-winning archaeologist who has been honored by the United States Congress. She began writing full-time in 1986 and has over one hundred nonfiction publications in the fields of archaeology, history, writing, and buffalo conservation. She has authored several novels under her own name and coauthored more than thirty international bestsellers with her husband, W. Michael Gear. Their books have been translated into twenty-nine languages. She and her husband live in northern Wyoming. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Also by Kathleen O’Neal Gear

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Cover design by James Perales and David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  Cover photographs: maze © Exogenesiso/Shutterstock.com; DNA © Nanovector/Shutterstock.com

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  MAZE MASTER. Copyright © 2018 by Kathleen O’Neal Gear. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-1-250-12199-8 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-12200-1 (ebook)

  eISBN 9781250122001

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact your local bookseller or the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition: July 2018

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

 

 

 


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